Fight For You
by DestinyWolfe
Summary: Cas and Dean are cornered in an alleyway by angels determined to destroy Cas for his crimes against Heaven. Unfortunately for them, Dean is even more determined to keep his angel alive than they are to see him dead. Rated teen for violence, and 'cause I'm paranoid. :)
1. Breaking An Angel

Dean stopped dead, his eyes sweeping the alleyway with desperation blazing in their green depths. His face was already smeared with blood and dirt, and his body was tense with mixed fear and exhilaration. "Cass?" His voice broke slightly and he cleared his throat and tried again. "Cass!"

"I'm here, Dean," Castiel appeared with a rustling of feathers, his blue eyes wide and alert, "They're coming. We have to run. Now!"

"Run where, Cass?" Dean said, his voice rough with desperation, "Back the way I came? Because last time I checked, waiting for you back there is what almost got me killed."

Cass shook his head, a look of grim defeat settling on his face. "They're already here. I'll hold them off for as long as I can; you have to..."

"No way, man. There's no way in hell I'm going to..."

"Dean!" Cass snarled, turning to face his human charge with fear and anger dancing in his eyes. "This isn't your fight."

Dean grit his teeth and shook his head, standing his ground firmly. "I know, Cass, but I'm not leaving you here alone."

With a rustle, three dark figures appeared before Dean and Castiel, the newcomers' eyes full of a cold sort of satisfaction. "Hello, Castiel," one of them said with a small, fake smile, "I see that you have your favorite pet with you today. Not such a good place for him to be."

"Your quarrel is with me, not him," Cass growled, "Dean is not a part of this."

The other angel grinned. "Oh, I think you'll find that he is a very big part of this. Especially since having him here makes my mission a lot simpler. As we all know, breaking an angel can be very hard. But you, Castiel... Cass... Your weaknesses are actually quite easy to identify." The angel laughed coldly, drawing forth an angel blade from beneath his jacket. "When the right pressure is applied to the right areas, anything can be broken."

Cass's eyes blazed and he moved into a protective stance in front of Dean. In one swift motion he drew a silver blade of his own, gripping it tightly in one fist as he waited for his opponent to make the first move. "I'm not afraid to fight you, Natheriel. I am the superior warrior. We both know it."

The other angel laughed, shaking his head at Cass with an almost irritated look on his smug face. "Do you really think I'm going to let you fight me one-on-one? I'm not that stupid, Castiel." He nodded to either side, and the other two angels quickly drew their angel blades, holding them in a threatening way. "You betrayed us. And now you will pay for your disobedience."

The other two angels smiled coldly, and together the three angels closed in on Cass and Dean with grim determination.

The first angel to speak was the first to strike, darting in with his blade in an attempt to draw Cass into the fight. Cass had no choice but to parry Natheriel's move, slashing out fiercely while still managing to hold his position.

Dean, who up until this point had all but been shielded from sight, now took the opportunity to distract their opponents. Stepping backwards until he was pressed against the grimy alley wall, he slowly began to move away from Cass and into the other angels' view, his green eyes glaring a challenge.

"The human's trying to get away!" one angel cried out, momentarily turning his attention to Dean.

For Cass, this split second of distraction was all he needed. Twisting around, he buried the angel blade deep in the other's side, stumbling backward as his opponent screamed and fell to the ground, light streaming out of his eyes and mouth.

Natheriel let out a snarl of fury, and before Cass could spin back to face him he had darted in to wrap his fingers around the fallen angel's momentarily exposed throat. With a snarl of satisfaction, he slammed Castiel back against the wall, lifting his blade so that the tip rested under his prisoner's jaw. With his other hand he grabbed Cass's right wrist, immobilizing the latter's weapon hand. Natheriel smirked with icy triumph. "Grab the human," he growled at his companion, "Make sure he can't try anything while I give this traitor what he deserves."

"No!" Dean yelled as the second angel managed to wrestle the hunter's arms behind his back, "Let me go, you sonuvabitch!"

Cass tensed at Dean's screams, turning a pleading gaze on his captor. "Let Dean go, and I will not fight you, Natheriel. I will follow you back to Heaven and take whatever punishment you think I deserve, as long as you leave him unharmed."

Natheriel laughed bitterly. "I'm not returning you to Heaven, my friend. Actually, I was hoping there would be a little accident before I could bring you home, an incident most likely involving the slow and painful death of my prisoners."

Cass tried not to be afraid, but the truth was that he was barely keeping it together. Not because he feared for himself, but because he had failed Dean. He had let his human charge down and endangered his life, and it was this that scared him beyond all else. He had put his best friend in danger, and now he couldn't save him.

"Let's get started, shall we?" Natheriel pulled from his pocket a small, intricately carven silver wristband, which was inlaid with enochian symbols and sigils. He grabbed Cass's left wrist and firmly secured the metal band around it, tightening it cruelly. "Now you're powerless, my friend. Powerless to save yourself... Powerless to save Dean."

Cass stared at Natheriel in disbelief, his blue eyes full of pain and fear. "Why?" Was all he managed to get out.

"Because you betrayed us, Castiel. You betrayed your own kind." With a snarl, Natheriel slashed down Cass's jawline, leaving a deep gash.

"You betrayed us all, and for that you must pay." His fingers tightened around Cass's throat, crushing the fallen angel's airways until Cass could no longer draw breath.

"Cass!" Dean yelled, struggling against his captor's strong grip, "Leave him alone, you sonuvabitch!"

Natheriel laughed coldly, shaking his head as he lowered his own angel blade, his fingers closing around the hilt of his opponent's as he pried the weapon from Cass's fingers. "And now," he hissed, "You will feel the pain of your Grace draining out of your body." Cass tried to cry out as Natheriel's blade sunk deep into his shoulder, pinning him against the wall, but his throat was too tight to make any sound at all. An even more excruciating pain lit up Cass's right side as the second blade was slashed forcefully across his body, leaving a deep gash from his rib cage all the way down to his hip. Natheriel grinned with satisfaction as he forcefully pulled the blade out of Castiel's shoulder, twisting it until a stain of blood spread across the tan trench coat. Cass screamed in his True Voice, a sound of pure agony.

"Cass!" Dean was yelling his name, and through the blinding pain it was the only thing that the fallen angel heard. The hunter was snarling threats at Natheriel, most of them violent and obscene. "Get away from him, or I swear...!"

Natheriel lifted his blade again, this time cutting Cass from the base of his throat to the bottom of his ribs. And then, almost as an afterthought, he drew back his fist and slammed it across Castiel's face, once, twice, three times. He smirked with satisfaction as blood ran from Cass's nose and lips, smearing across his bruised and cut face. Castiel gasped with pain, fighting to draw breath. His vision was going black, his world spinning out of control...

Dimly, Cass heard a faint voice speaking, and he was barely able to make out the words through the excruciating pain. "Let the human go," Natheriel was saying, "We really have no reason to kill him. But Castiel must be finished properly." That's when Cass felt the angel blade enter his abdomen, striking deep into his flesh. And then there was a rustling of wings, and the angels were gone.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 


	2. Hold On

Dean fell to all fours as the man holding him suddenly disappeared, letting him drop onto the filthy concrete. His hands ached as blood rushed into them again, and he felt dizzy and sick as he scrambled back to his feet. "Cas!" He ran toward his friend, kneeling beside the fallen body. Cas had slid down the wall as soon as Natheriel had released him, leaving a thick smear of red on the grimy bricks.

Dean held his breath as he cautiously placed two fingers on Cas's bruised throat, waiting desperately to feel a pulse. Thank God. It was faint, but it was there. "Hold on, buddy," Dean gently pulled back Cas's bloodstained coat, wanting to see the full extent of the damage. He felt his heart rise into his throat as he took in the two long, deep gashes, his eyes finally coming to rest on the silver blade stuck deep into the fallen angel's stomach. Fear and anger swirled inside of the hunter's mind at the sight, and he made a silent oath to find the angel who had done this and rip its fucking wings off himself.

But what scared Dean the most wasn't the blood that was quickly pulsing out of the angel's wounds; it was the silvery-blue light shining through the torn flesh. Dean knew what the faint glow meant, and it terrified him-Cas's Grace had been torn along with his vessel.

Dean knew he had to move fast if he was going to save his angel's life. And although he had no experience with keeping an angel's Grace from bleeding out, he knew he had to close up Cas's wounds before he could do anything else. Maybe if he could just seal all that light inside of Cas's vessel...

"Dean," Cas's voice was so faint that Dean could barely hear it over the rushing of blood in his ears, but somehow he did.

"Cas?" Dean lifted one hand and cupped it carefully against Cas's cheek, covering the bleeding gash on his angel's jaw. "Hey, Cas. C'mon, open your eyes for me."

Cas's blue eyes opened slowly, and the pain and fear in them was so terrible and raw that Dean flinched. "Dean," Cas managed to get out, lifting his hand to grab a handful of the hunter's leather jacket. His knuckles were white as he gripped Dean' jacket tightly, as if it were the only thing anchoring him to life.

"Whoa, Cas," Dean let his hand fall onto Cas's wounded shoulder, applying gentle pressure to the bleeding stab wound. "It's okay; I've got you. You're going to be fine. You're going to be just fine. You hear me?"

Cas didn't respond, his eyes sliding shut and his head falling forward so that his chin rested on his bloodstained chest. The hand gripping Dean's jacket went limp.

"Hey!" Dean raised his voice as panic surged through him like a powerful electric shock. Hands shaking, he reached up to place his right finger's on Cas's throat. No pulse. No fucking pulse. His own heart went instantly into hyperdrive, almost as if it were trying to beat for both of them, and he quickly but carefully shifted his angel away from the wall and set Cas down on his back. Forcing down the panic that was threatening to engulf him, Dean placed his hands on Castiel's chest and began compressions. One, two, three...Dean counted, pausing after twenty compressions to listen for breath and/or a heartbeat. Nothing. Dean bent his head over Cas's face, pinching the angel's nose as he placed his mouth on Cas's. Normally this would have made the hunter extremely uncomfortable, but given the situation he couldn't have cared less. Whatever he had to do to save his angel's life, he would do it.

Dean worked tirelessly for the next seven minutes, switching between breaths and compressions as he fought to bring Cas back. But the angel remained unresponsive, the bright glow spilling out of his wounds growing stronger with every passing second as Cas's essence slowly but surely detached itself from his vessel.

"Cass, please," Dean grit his teeth as his eyes began to sting and his throat closed up with fear and disbelief, "C'mon, man. You've got to get through this! I need you!" With a snarl he lifted one fist and slammed it down over the angel's heart, all of his fear, anger, and grief contained in this single blow.

And suddenly Cas's back arched and he took a long gasping breath, his blue eyes flying open as he struggled to focus on Dean's face. He fought desperately to breath through the constriction in his bruised and broken throat, his gaze full of pain and fear as he again reached out to grab Dean's jacket. "Dean... Can't... I can't..."

Dean felt an almost painful surge of relief at seeing Cas's wide blue eyes again, but it was quickly replaced by fear and horror as Cas coughed up blood mixed with silvery light.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hey, Cas. It's okay, man; I've got you," Dean gently put one hand under his friend's uninjured shoulder, pulling the wounded angel up into a half-sitting position. Cas groaned slightly, his eyes closing as he relaxed against Dean's side. His head fell to rest on the hunter's chest, and Dean carefully put one arm around the angel's back to hold him upright.

"Dean... Are you..." Cas swallowed hard, his chest rising and falling with short, rapid breaths. "Are you hurt?"

Dean's heart wrenched painfully at these words, and he realized that even in his current condition, Cas was only concerned about Dean's safety.

"Yeah. I'm fine," Dean muttered, feeling guilty that he had gotten off so easy compared to his friend, "Look, Cas, we've got to get you out of here. You need to be somewhere safe; somewhere I can take care of those wounds. You're going to have to stay here while I get the car, okay?"

Cas nodded, relinquishing his death grip on Dean's jacket. "I'll... I'll just..." Cas tried to reply, but his bruised throat wouldn't allow him to form a cohernent sentence, so he just nodded again.

Dean grit his teeth, carefully maneuvering the angel back against the wall. Taking Cas's hands in his, Dean positioned them so that one was pressed firmly over the angel's shoulder wound, and the other was folded around the blade sticking out of his stomach, holding it steady. Then the hunter removed his jacket and tucked it around his friend, who had begun to shiver violently. He guessed that Cas was going into shock, if that was even possible for angels. His skin was cold and pale, but that could also be due to the blood loss he was suffering. Dean didn't even know if angels couldgo into shock, but he wasn't taking any chances.

"Cas, I need you to keep pressure on that shoulder wound," Dean stood up, wiping Cas's blood on his ripped pants, "I'll be right back. Don't... Don't move, okay?"

Cas nodded, a grimace of pain twisting his features as he pressed his fingers against the bleeding stab wound.

Dean stood for a few seconds, looking down at the half-concious angel, and then he turned and ran back down the alleyway toward the parking lot as fast as he possibly could.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .


	3. After The Battle

Cas lay in the half-dark, gasping for breath as pain and shock coursed through him. He was quickly beginning to drift toward unconsciousness, but he forced himself to stay awake-Dean would be back soon, and Cas didn't want him to panic. Despite the black spots dancing before his vision and the sick smell of blood rising from his many wounds, the angel had to keep fighting the darkness. No matter how much he wanted to give in and slip into blissful nothingness, he couldn't.

"Hey!" Dean's voice was too loud, with an edge of panic to it, "Hey! Look at me! Cas!"

Cas blinked, forcing himself to focus on the hunter's face. Dean was kneeling over the angel, fear in his eyes as he reached out to grip Cas's uninjured shoulder. "Hello, Dean," Cas muttered, fighting to stay conscious for just a little bit longer. He hoped that eventually Dean would realize that he was past saving, and would leave him behind. At least that way Dean would be moving himself out of the path of danger, and as much as Cas wanted his friend to stay, it was more important that Dean was safe.

"God, Cas. You're so pale," Dean frowned, the green fire in his eyes flickering with barely suppressed anxiety, "We need to get you somewhere safer, okay? The car is at the end of the alley, so if you can just make it that far, you can crash. Promise. All you gotta do is stand up and walk a little ways. Think you can do that for me?"

"Dean," Cas managed to get out, staring up at his friend with as much conviction in his gaze as he could muster, "Go now. You have to leave before the reinforcements come looking for me. If they find you here, they'll kill you. Or worse."

"Damn it, Cas," Dean growled, gripping the angel's shoulder even tighter as a ripple of emotions crossed his face, "I'm not leaving you behind. Ever."

Cas blinked, frowning slightly. "I don't understand, Dean, why...?"

"Yeah, I know you don't understand, you friggin' Vulcan," Dean muttered, rolling his eyes, "Doesn't change anything. I'm not leaving you."

"What's a Vulcan?" Cas asked, tilting his head slightly in confusion.

"Doesn't matter," Dean shook his head, smiling very slightly, "Just... Don't talk. I don't want you to hurt yourself more than you already have."

"I didn't hurt myself," Cas corrected dully as a wave of pain washed through him, "It was Natheriel who did this."

"That's not what I..." Dean began, then sighed and shook his head. Putting his hands on the angel's shoulders, he half dragged, half lift Cas to his feet. "C'mon, let's get you to the car."

At this, Cas hissed with pain and fear. He knew that if he had to go through what he had just experienced a second time, he wouldn't survive it. And neither would Dean; not if Heaven sent proper assassins this time, which they most likely would once Natheriel reported back. "I mean it, Dean!" Cass raised his voice slightly, wincing as the bruising around his throat shot throbbing pain throughout his chest and neck, "You have to get out of here. Run. Please."

"Alright, you know what?" Dean growled, tightening his grip on Cas's body as he dragged the angel toward the end of the alleyway where the Impala sat waiting, "You need to shut it and let me concentrate. You're not gonna convince me anyway, so you might as well stop fighting and let me get you to the car." Dean's hands slipped slightly, and the angel groaned with pain as the blade in his stomach shifted, "Sorry," Dean's eyes flashed with worry, and he let one of his hands fall down to support the weapon half-buried in the angel's flesh.

When they finally reached the Impala, Cas was practically unconscious again, his vision flickering and the blue glow showing through his wounds growing brighter with every passing moment. He could tell that Dean was doing his best not to panic, but there was a wild glint in the hunter's eyes that could only mean one thing-Cas was dying, or at least close to it.

"Get in the back," Dean said, his voice rough but his hands soft as he helped Cas into the car, "Lie down and try not to move. When we get back to the hotel I can fix you up, but those winged bitches might come back anytime."

Cas nodded weakly, his eyes falling shut as he sprawled out across the Impala's backseats. "Thank you, Dean." he murmured.

. . . . . .

The hotel was only a few miles from the alleyway where he and Cas had fought Natheriel and his accomplices, and Dean made sure to get there as fast as physically possible. He could tell that Cas's condition was getting worse, the scarlet stains on his trench-coat a solid indicator of the severity of his wounds. Gritting his teeth against the panic and fear rushing through his veins, the hunter parked Baby right outside his hotel room's door and shut off the engine.

"Hey, Cas," Dean pulled open the back door and climbed in beside the angel, doing his best to keep his voice semi-cheerful for his friend's sake. The last thing he wanted right now was for Cas to realize just how serious the situation was, as that might make his job-fixing the angel's broken vessel-quite a bit harder.

"Dean," Cas said groggily as Dean put an arm around his back and pulled him upright. The angel lifted his head, his eyes opening as he looked up into the hunter's face.

"C'mon, I need to get you inside," Dean helped his friend out of the car and across the parking lot, struggling to remove the keys from his pocket while supporting a dead-weight angel. As he opened the door and hoisted Cas into the room, he wondered if angels' wings added any weight to their vessel, because it sure felt like that could be possible at the moment.

Feeling slightly embarrassed and extremely un-macho, Dean gently lowered Cas onto the hunter's own bed, pulling one of the decorative pillows up under the angel's shoulders. Cas's face contracted with pain momentarily, but the expression was gone almost at once. After all, Cas was a warrior of Heaven, and it took a lot more than a few scratches (because that was all they were, Dean assured himself) to put him out of the game.

Pulling back the bloodstained and filthy trench-coat, the hunter again evaluated the angel's wounds. Most of them had already partially healed over, the flowing blood reduced to a trickle, but the stab-wound to Cas's stomach looked even worse than before. Fetching the first-aid kit from the kitchen, Dean carefully cleaned and bandaged the less-dangerous gashes and cuts, trying to delay dealing with the most serious damage as long as possible.

It took nearly half and hour for the hunter to completely finish with the cleansing and patching-up of his angel's injuries, and by that time the bleeding around the embedded blade had slowed at least a bit. Cas seemed to be unconscious, although Dean couldn't tell-for all he knew, the angel could just be sleeping. A little voice in the back of his head reminded him that angels don't sleep, and he bit his lip nervously. Taking a deep, slightly shaky breath, the hunter placed his hands around the silver weapon. Carefully, doing his best not to cause further damage, he gently pulled the blade from Cas's body, feeling half relieved and half anxious when the angel didn't respond to what must have been a large amount of pain.

"Mmmm," Cas attempted to roll over a few moment later, finally reacting as Dean pressed a large wad of gauze against the bleeding stab-wound, "Dean?" His blue eyes opened and instantly sought out the hunter's face, his body relaxing noticeably when Dean met his gaze steadily.

"I thought angels don't sleep," Dean smirked, gently swabbing away the blood seeping from the hole in the angel's torso, doing his best to ignore the bright light streaming through the broken flesh, "Or were you just resting your eyes?"

Cas smiled slightly in return. "I was unconscious," he supplied, "But only for a few minutes. The rest of the time I was awake but unable to move. My Grace is repairing my vessel, and it is taking up all my energy to do so."

"Good," Dean finished cleaning the wound and started to bandage it, wrapping strips of white cloth around the angel's midriff. Tying it off, he gave a nod of satisfaction as he considered his work. "Think you're good, Cas. Unless you heal up quick, we'll have to change the bandages in a few hours, but until then you're gonna sleep. Or, whatever. You know what I mean," he added as Cas opened his mouth to correct him.

Cas nodded, letting himself settle back against the decorative pillows. "Thank you," he looked up at Dean as the hunter pulled a blanket over the angel's body, "I feel... much better."

Dean grinned, letting out a breath of relief. "Don't do that again," he warned, his rough tone hiding a warm affection, "Or else I'll lock you in Bobby's panic room until this whole angel-thing has blown over."

Cas rolled his eyes, and Dean almost laughed at how similar the angel's exasperated expression was to the hunter's own. "I will try not to get into any more situations like this in the future," he agreed, "Thank you for saving me."

"'Course," Dean said, flashing one last charming smile over his shoulder as he turned toward the hotel kitchen. "That's what you do for family."

Cas closed his eyes and tucked his chin under the blanket, his entire face lit up with an uncharacteristically bright smile.

~ The End ~


End file.
